


Winchester's Bizarre Adventure

by cy_owns_this_whorehouse



Category: Supernatural, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Gore, Crossover, Everyone Is Gay, I'm so tired, M/M, Speedwagon Foundation (JoJo), Stand Arrows (JoJo), hate that thing, not a crack rp i can't write those, the boys get stands, well- except iggy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cy_owns_this_whorehouse/pseuds/cy_owns_this_whorehouse
Summary: Alternative title: what happens when you're sleep deprived.Set during season 6. Of Supernatural. Not Jojo's.Sam and Dean are on a hunt when something truly bizarre happens, they're both stabbed with an arrow but miraculously don't die. Four strangers are called to come collect the arrow and the newly born stand users, and they discover something sinister lurking in the corners of what was supposed to be a cut and dry job...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Higashikata Josuke (JoJo: Diamond is Unbreakable)/Nijimura Okuyasu, Kakyoin Noriaki/Kujo Jotaro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Wayward Son

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to yet another fic that i likely will never finish and leave my readers desolate! ah well, it is what it is. well, i hope this fic makes sense so far, and that everyone isn't too weirded out by the odd crossover. enjoy!

It was really just a regular case. They bickered about whether or not to take it, Dean thought it was a wraith and Sam thought it was just a serial killer, since the wounds were in the neck and looked like something had just stabbed right through. Either way Dean thought they should investigate, while Sam thought they should leave it to the police.

It was decided when Dean found that someone had survived one of the accounts, and was now claiming to be able to walk up walls. definitely weird, and definitely their thing, Dean argued. Sam couldn't argue back, it was weird. They decided to leave in the morning. 

\----

"Hey, think we should call Cas?" Sam says as they drive away towards California the next morning, coffee stuck in the cupholders that did little to keep Dean from yawning every five seconds. He shakes his head anyway.

"Nah, dude's busy. Besides, this isn't really his thing. He doesn't deal with spiderman."

"Hmm," is all Sam says, still pouring over the papers on the case on his laptop. "Just feels...weird. I have a bad feeling about this one."

“Okay, Han," Dean scoffs, shaking his head as he looks over at Sam. "It's fine. We've worked a hundred of wraith cases in the past, it's not that big a deal."

This was a lie. The further they drove the more Dean was starting to get the same feeling, that dark, doomsday feeling that settled in his bones and made his mouth tighten slightly in dread anticipation. Like they were driving right back to Lucifer. But he'd never admit it to Sammy.

As if on cue of the dark aura in the car, there was a sudden clap of thunder and it began to rain, suddenly, out of the blue. Sheets of sheer rain that made it hard to see, and Dean had to squint through the pouring rain and incessantly moving window wipers. 

"Dean, maybe we should pull over," Sam says, looking a little worried at how much it was raining. Dean shakes his head. 

"It's fine, we're almost there anyway," he says, and his voice tells Sam to drop it. He does, and soon enough Dean has to begrudgingly pull over once they just cross the Californian border, into the lot of a small motel. 

They and their bags are soaked through by the time they make it to the lobby, and the girl at the front desk looks tired and uninterested. She gives them a key to a room, and both of them are asleep as soon as they hit the sheets.

\----

Sam wakes in the middle of the night from a fitful sleep to the sound of a wet, snapping  _ crunch.  _ His head snaps up as a disgusting, blood filled gurgle spills into the room, and he's sitting up with the gun trained on the intruder in a second, but the damage has been done.

The man is sitting on Dean's chest, a huge arrow stabbed through his brother's neck, and Dean is still and wide eyed. Sam lets out a strangled noise of pain and rage and fear and god knows what else, and shoots at the man. It hits him in the shoulder and he collapses off the bed with a loud cry, giving Sam time to scramble over to Dean, yanking the arrow out and tossing it away.

"Oh God-- oh fuck, oh my god, Dean," Sam says in that same strangled voice, he can't believe what he's seeing what the fuck it all happened so fast Dean couldn't be  _ dead  _ nononono--

That same wet crunch of bone and blood rings suddenly in his ears, before a burst of pain like a firework in his throat cracks his lungs and he can no longer breathe or scream. He looks down just in time to see the arrow jutting from his throat, and Dean, stirring beside him, before it's ripped out and everything goes black.

\----

When Sam wakes up the first thing he thinks is  _ heaven doesn’t smell like old sheets and b.o.  _ Then he opens his eyes and sees Dean's face, looming in his vision. He jolts awake with a startled gasp, and Dean jerks back. 

"Whoah! whoah, sorry, Sammy, didn't mean to scare you," Dean says with a nervous chuckle. Sam sits up and his hand immediately goes to his throat, but he can feel nothing there. no wound, no broken bone, nothing. Does heaven really smell like old sheets and b.o.?? No...he’s not dead. 

"What the hell happened last night?" He whispers, rubbing his throat as he looks over at Dean. Dean just shakes his head. 

"No idea. but it wasn't a dream, and we aren’t dead," he says grimly, holding up what was unmistakably the arrow they'd both been stabbed with. Sam stares at the arrow, which was slowly dripping blood onto the sheets. Sam’s stomach churns and the sound of crunching bone rang through his head before he shook it away.

"How'd you get that?"

Dean shrugs. "Got it off the guy. After he stabbed you I woke up, somehow very much not dead, then shot him in the head and he died like a regular person. Spent most of the night burying him in the woods."

Sam settles slightly onto the bed, but his hand doesn't move from absently rubbing his throat as he looks at the bloody arrow. That was definitely their blood. He swallows hard around the nausea.

"So...what is that thing?" He says, as though Dean will have more answers. Dean shakes his head again, coupled with a defeated shrug. 

"Again, not a friggin clue. Looks Aztec, maybe?" He suggests, and Sam squints at it as if trying to see the same thing. They’re quiet for a second, just looking at it. Then Sam sighs.

"I'm going to go shower," he decides, getting up and locking himself in, leaving Dean alone with the arrow.

Dean picks it up, looking at it with no small amount of scrutiny. Maybe he should do some actual research on this thing. He rummages into his duffel to grab his laptop, and spends the next hour looking for what the arrow could possibly be.

He's not as good at research and nerdy shit as Sam is, but somehow, he manages to find something as soon as Sam is done drying his stupidly long hair.

"Sammy? I think I found something," he says once the dryer clicks off. Sam skids back into the main room, looking slightly...fluffy. Dean snorts in amusement, but it's slightly strained. His eyes keep flicking to Sam's untouched throat, as if expecting to see the arrow wound appear again at any moment.

“What is it?”

Dean turns the laptop to show him the site he found, with a picture of the arrow on the side of what looked like a large case file. He points to the site name, small and professional in the corner of the page. 

“The...Speedwagon Foundation?” Sam says slowly, squinting at the screen. “I’ve never heard of them before.”

“They’re mostly based in new york. They have two of these arrows, according to the file, and…” he clicks around for a second, then shows the screen again. “They have a phone number. Wanna call them?” He says, grinning at Sam. Sam gives him an unamused look. 

“Fine,” he mutters, dialing the number. Dean leans back in his chair, before standing up and going to the fridge to get a beer. He’d worked enough for one day to earn a beer, he prides himself. Hehe. 

He stays in the kitchen, drinking his beer and listening to the soft murmur of Sam’s voice in the other room. He felt...weird, hot and slightly...feverish. Whatever that arrow had been, it made him feel awful, like he was coming down from a horrible illness. His vision swam slightly, and he shut his eyes tight. For a second, it looked like his arm had shimmered green…

He shook his head, opening his eyes as Sam came back into the room. “Hey, any luck?”

Sam looks slightly concerned when he sees how pale Dean has gone, but says nothing about it. “Uh, yea. Yea, I talked to some of the people there, they’re going to send some people to pick it up. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Great! Now what?” Dean says, scowling slightly at his bottle. That greenish haze was back, drifting around his skin in the corner of his eye. Sam shrugs, giving Dean that slightly concerned, puppy dog look that made Dean give him a weird face. 

“We wait, I guess?” Sam says, shrugging. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Great,” Dean mutters, getting up from the counter. “In that case, I’m going to go watch some anime, get drunk, pass out because i feel like shit, and not think about last night. Bye.”

He walks off to the bedroom and flops on the bed, pulling out his laptop and effectively shutting Sam out completely. Sam sighs. He might as well do some research on the people coming to collect the arrow. 

A marine biologist? A paramedic? A random guy and a mechanical engineer? This was the task force coming to pick up the arrow? Sam slams his laptop shut and rubs his face. This wasn’t going to the plan they’d set out literally two days ago...he stands up, peeking in on Dean.

"What kind of take out do you want?" He asks, and Dean shrugs.

"I mean, can't go wrong with pizza," he says, even though he doesn't really feel like eating. He knows that Sam doesn't feel like it either, but they need some semblance of normalcy after last night. Sam nods, and disappears back into the kitchen area.

The rest of the night is spent in uneasy silence, lots of liquor, staring at the arrow and a box of half eaten pizza. Sam turns in early, and Dean tries not to give in to the nightmares that are sure to come as soon as he closes his eyes. 

He can't avoid it forever, though, and falls into a restless, uncomfortably feverish sleep early in the morning. 

\----

He sleeps for a few hours, until waking up to the sound of a glass breaking. He whips his head up and his gun is out from under his pillow in a second, trained on the sound, but it's just Sam, looking apologetic. 

"Sorry," he says. "I dropped a glass in the sink."

Dean lowers his gun. Sam looks like shit, pale and slightly shaky. 

"Are you okay?"

Sam shakes his head. "I think I'm sick. it's not a big deal, I can manage."

Dean frowns slightly. That was exactly how he'd felt yesterday, but it was gone this morning. He felt fine, if a bit warm. But he lets it go. There’s not much he can do about it anyway. Sam disappears again, and there’s silence for a while. Dean rubs his face, trying to wake up as he sits up on the edge of the bed. A few minutes pass. 

Sam peeks in around the wall, looking at Dean. 

“Hey...I’m going for a grocery run, want to come?” He says, gesturing towards the door. Dean looks up at him, then shrugs. 

“Yea, sure,” he says, stretching his arms out above his head before reaching down to pull his boots on and tie them. “Let’s go.”

\----

The door opens several hours later and the brothers enter, only to drop their grocery bags and draw their guns. The man sitting at the table by the window barely moves, just slowly sets his book down and looks over at them with level, exhausted blue eyes. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean snarls, not taking his gun off of the man. The man stands, his hat brim casting a deep shadow over his face. He’s as tall, if not taller, than Sam, broad shouldered and muscled like a quarterback. He slides his hands into the pockets of his long, white coat, sporting a rather intimidating figure. Rather was a...weak word. He was terrifying. Their guns don’t move, still trained on his chest. He stares down at them, and you can almost feel the intimidation radiating off of him. 

But then the man bows, palms pressed together. Dean squints. 

“Apologies. My name is Doctor Kujo Jotaro. I’m from the Speedwagon Foundation,” he rumbles in a deep voice tinged with a Japanese accent. Sam lowers his gun immediately, elbowing Dean in the side. Dean elbows him back and scowls, dropping his gun as well. Doctor Kujo doesn’t move, barely notices them lower the guns.

Sam’s eyes flick to his duffel bag, where the arrow is stashed, and something... _ shifts. _ All of the sudden Doctor Kujo is sitting on the chair again, holding the delicate arrow in his slim hands and looking it over. Sam and Dean start slightly, they hadn’t even seen him move. 

“How did you do that?” Dean demands. Doctor Kujo doesn’t look at him. He just inhales slowly, a muscle in his squared jaw tensing. He pauses for a second, then slowly puts the arrow down on the table as if handling something extremely radioactive. Then he turns those intense blue eyes on Dean.

“Sam said you were both stabbed by this?” he says softly. Dean swallows somewhat nervously under his piercing stare. It’s...familiar, reminds him of someone but he can’t quite pinpoint who. 

“Um, yea, we were,” Dean says slowly, a bit miffed that Doctor Kujo had just ignored his question. Doctor Kujo laces his fingers together and leans back in his chair, looking at both of them in turn. 

“And you haven’t noticed anything strange.”

“Strange like…?” Sam trails off. Doctor Kujo sighs very softly through his nose, standing up and tucking his hands back into his pockets. He narrows his eyes at Dean as if zeroing in on him, then something large, purple, and glowing slightly flies through the air straight at Dean’s head. 

“Whoah!” Dean shouts, stumbling back as something big and green and also glowing flies up and blocks the purple thing’s-- the purple _ man’s-- _ fist. Doctor Kujo looks pleasantly surprised, and Sam yelps in shock. 

“A power type. And a fully fledged one at that,” Doctor Kujo says, standing up and crossing the room to look more closely at the green stand that just blocked Star Platinum’s fist. 

“A  _ what?? _ ” Dean shrieks, still staring at the green man looking thing standing in front of him. The man turns and looks at him, and Dean should be scared by its appearance but it just...feels...warm, in a way. It’s not dangerous, it’s...him. Whatever this thing is, it’s a part of him.

It’s tall, broad, a bright candy apple green that should be an eyesore but instead looks like a tree waking up from winter. Its darker green armor covers most of its body, looking almost exactly like the knight from that one scooby doo episode when Dean was a kid. The only difference is that it’s lower visor is missing from its helmet, and slow, white streaks drop from its blank eyes down its face. It’s crying, and Dean doesn’t know why. But it kind of hurts, in a way. It shouldn’t be crying. 

He reaches out to touch its face, and it actually leans into his hand. He looks sad for a second, then drops his hand, looking surprised. “Your name is Wayward Son?” he asks it, and it nods. Doctor Kujo looks even more surprised, though it’s slightly dulled by the tiredness on his face.

“You know their name already, that’s...good,” he says, looking appraisingly at Dean. Sam splutters slightly. 

Dean starts out of his trance and the second he looks away from Wayward Son, they fade back into his body. “Wait a second, wait a second. I don’t even know what it--what  _ they _ are. Care to explain?” he says, voice tight. Doctor Kujo’s lips twitch as if he wants to scowl, but his face remains blank and impassive. 

“Of course. Allow me to just--”

There’s a loud knock at the door and the brothers jump, twisting around to stare at it. Doctor Kujo straightens, striding over to the door. He opens it, and two young men in wild outfits stumble through the door frame, immediately beginning to babble loudly in what sounds like Japanese. Doctor Kujo just listens, looking faintly annoyed, then mutters a soft exclamation in Japanese under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It’s Sam who kind of loses it. “Okay, who the hell are these jokers?” he snaps, gesturing at the two newcomers, who look confused, as if they don’t know whether to be offended or not. “Why are they here? What the hell is going on?? Can we  _ please  _ get some answers!?”

“Sammy!” Dean says, glaring at him. Sam glares right back. Doctor Kujo does nothing, and the two men whisper together for a second. Then Doctor Kujo nods.

“Yes. My apologies. First of all, this is my uncle, Higashikata Josuke, and his husband, Higashikata Okuyasu. They don’t speak much english, but they’re here to help. Now, if you’ll just sit down, I can explain everything.”


	2. Dead or Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers his stand, Jotaro tells Dean a story, and the last member of their team shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen I don't know if this makes sense and also it's probably ooc because Jotaro doesn't talk much in canon does he??? idk it's been a hot second ANYWAY enjoy heheh

"So...they're called stands because they  _ stand  _ next to you? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." The scathing tone is evident in Dean's voice. Josuke, who's sitting on the counter, elbows his husband and whispers to him, and Okuyasu snickers. Dean has the faint impression that they've heard that phrase before and are mocking him. He scowls.

"Yes," Doctor Kujo says shortly, though he looks rather inclined to agree with Dean. Sam looks thoughtful.

"Does that mean you were all stabbed with an arrow?" Sam says from his place at the table. Doctor Kujo shakes his head. 

"No. My partner and Okuyasu have had theirs since birth, Josuke and I discovered ours nearly 20 years ago when we were cursed by a man named Dio." Doctor Kujo's mouth twists at the mention of this name, the most emotion he'd shown yet. Both brothers could see that this...Dio had obviously caused the Doctor a lot of pain, and decided they wouldn't pry.

San changes the subject.

"You mentioned a partner, and I know you were bringing a fourth, but there...isn't. Is he not coming?" 

Doctor Kujo smiles faintly. "No, he's coming. He had to be checked up in a hospital as soon as we landed, but he'll be here soon enough." He doesn't elaborate, and neither of them ask. Instead, Sam looks down at his hands and flexes his fingers lightly.

"Do I have a stand?" he asks softly. Doctor Kujo looks at him with a soft head tilt. 

"I'm not sure. I can't answer that for you."

Sam looks down at his hands as if expecting to see the same green shimmer that had appeared before Wayward Son had shown up. There's nothing- so far, at least. Dean looks over at his hands too, wondering.

"How can I tell?" Sam asks. Doctor Kujo shrugs very slightly, the barest dip of his shoulders. 

"You can't, until it shows."

"That's helpful," Sam mutters. Doctor Kujo gives him that slightly stern look. 

"If you want. You can practice with Josuke and Okuyasu until it manifests."

The couple looks up at their names being said, and Jotaro mutters something in japanese to them. They look at Sam and nod, twin grins of mischief on their faces. Sam doesn't really like that look, but he stands up anyway and they slide off the counter to join him. 

"Come, Sam! We practice," Josuke cries, his accent is very thick but his english is enough to understand easily. Sam follows after them, out the door. Dean squints. 

"Won't they be seen?" 

Doctor Kujo shakes his head. "No. Only other stand users can see stands, and I sense none nearby, other than us."

Dean nods slowly and settles back down onto his chair across from Doctor Kujo. Unlike Sam, Dean doesn't have most of the reservations when it comes to sensitive topics. He's practically burning to know. 

"Who's Dio?" he blurts, and Doctor Kujo's piercing eyes immediately darken. Dean looks slightly cowed.

"Sorry. You don't have to answer that."

Doctor Kujo doesn't answer, just looks out the window and takes a deep breath in, lacing his fingers together on the table. There's silence for a while, and Dean is certain he won't answer, and gets up to grab his gun to clean it.

When Dean sits back down, Doctor Kujo is looking expectantly at him. 

"Dio was the man who wiped out half my family," he says, his voice void of emotion, face blank. Dean winces slightly.

"I'm sorry."

Doctor Kujo waves it off with a slightly irritated look. "Don't be. I didn't know most of them. Dean, are you familiar with vampires?" 

Dean scowls at the cleaning rod he was holding that was rubbing inside the barrel of the gun. "Too familiar."

"Good. Dio was one of them. A nasty one." He inhales deeply again, as if speaking the vampire's name physically hurt him. "Dio grew up with my great, great grandfather, Jonathan Joestar. They were raised as brothers, but according to my grandfather, they never got along. When Dio was 20, he turned himself into a vampire using an Aztec stone mask, and killed Jonathan but supposedly died in the process. He then disappeared for a hundred years. When he resurfaced…" 

Doctor Kujo sighs, deeply. The lines under his eyes seem to deepen with a sort of nostalgic sadness. 

"When he resurfaced, he had stolen Jonathan's body for his own use. He found the first arrow and used it to gain a stand, yet when he gained it, my entire bloodline- myself, my grandfather Joseph, my mother Holy, and Josuke- gained one as well due to our connection. However, my mother wasn't strong enough to bear the stand's power, and very nearly died. My grandfather and I were forced to go to Egypt and kill Dio so the curse would end. I was barely 17 at the time."

"But you still have your stand. How does that make sense?" Dean asks, and Doctor Kujo shakes his head slightly.

"I don't know. But she survived, that's the important thing. On our journey my grandfather and I met three other men who would help us, Mohammad Avdol, Jean Pierre Polnareff, and Kakyoin Noriaki- and Iggy, the dog, I suppose." 

Doctor Kujo pulls a tattered photo out of his breast pocket and hands it to Dean, who holds it carefully because it seemed like the doctor treasured it highly. It had five men in it, standing in the desert, pressed close together. The oldest man is holding a small dog. Dean can't help but smile as he hands it back to the doctor, who slips it back into his pocket. 

"We killed Dio after almost 50 days of travelling to get to him, and very nearly lost...well, everyone," Doctor Kujo says, and there's a hint of morose in his emotionless voice. "As it was, we barely made it out alive. JiJi lost a lot of blood, Avdol lost his arms, Kakyoin-" he pauses, saying this seemed to take a lot out of him, as if it physically hurt him. "Kakyoin lost most of his spine and can barely walk on his best days. Iggy...didn't make it."

Dean doesn't know what to say. He himself had experienced so much loss in his life that he'd become numb to it, but as he was faced with this man almost 10 years his senior he felt...protective, in a way. I mean being raised into hunting since birth was one thing but being thrust into so much trauma as a fucking kid...that was messed up. 

Dean wanted to say he was sorry, but instead all that came out was "why are you telling me this?"

Doctor Kujo gives him a small, wry smile. "It's been a long time since I talked to someone who has experienced the same."

Dean looks down at the pieces of the gun he's still holding in his hands. "...yea. Sucks ass," he says shortly, and this actually gets a soft snort of amusement from the older man. 

"Indeed," Doctor Kujo responds, just as the door flings open and Josuke comes stumbling in, yelling something in Japanese. Dean catches something that sounds like "Nori" and Jotaro stands up so fast his chair falls over. He barks something back and disappears out the door, leaving Dean bewildered and alone until Sam bursts in with Okuyasu.

"I found it!" Sam cries, looking elated and kinda goofy if Dean was being honest. Dean stands up.

"Your stand?"

"Yea!" Sam says, pushing his hands out in front of him. A large, red thing comes flying out, it looks wildly different from Dean's in the way that it's more...humanoid. It looks more like Doctor Kujo's, rather than Dean's, which is completely armored. Sam's has wide blue eyes and massive horns that curl from its black hair that floats totally opposite from gravity, just like Star Platinum. It's got some kind of plating all over its body as some sort of clothing, either that or it's segmented and junkless or some shit. Its mouth is covered by another one of those plates, giving it a somewhat innocent expression that denies its demonic look. Dean looks skeptical.

"What does it do?" 

Sam pauses, and his stand floats down to touch on the ground. "I have no idea. All I know is its name is Dead or Alive and it's kinda touchy."

Dead or Alive proves his point by half dissolving, its legs disappearing into what looks like smoke, and curling itself around Sam to rest on his shoulder. 

"Huh. Man, this is weird as fuck," Dean says, a skeptical look on his face. 

"Yea, you're telling me," Sam mutters, as Josuke comes bounding back in the still open door. Okuyasu asks him something that sounds like a question and takes him by the arm, and Josuke kisses his cheek in reassurance. Dean looks away, it feels like a moment he shouldn't intrude on. 

There's a sound of arguing from beyond the open door, an outburst of "I can do it myself, JoJo!" and Doctor Kujo's quieter but slightly angry sounding voice. A few moments later and a tall, willowy red haired man in a long, elegant green coat steps through the door, leaning on a cane and looking disgruntled. Doctor Kujo is right behind him, his arm on the redhead's elbow to support him. 

The man looks like shit if the brothers are going to be honest, dark circles under eyes with scars that look like jester marks, worry lines marking the space between his eyebrows, and he looks pale and thin like he's been sick for a very long time. He carries himself as straight as he can, though, trying not to lean too hard on Doctor Kujo. 

When he sees Sam and Dean, he presses a hand lightly to his stomach and dips his head in a small bow. "Gentlemen. My name is Kakyoin Noriaki. Pleasure." He had been speaking fluent Japanese when he walked in the door but now his English is polished and flawless, if it does sound like a textbook.

Sam and Dean nod back, kind of unsure of the protocol. Kakyoin looks slightly pleased. Doctor Kujo's hand doesn't move from his partner's elbow, and his slightly angry expression fades slightly as Kakyoin leans slightly into him. 

"This is our fourth member, my husband, Noriaki," Doctor Kujo explains to the Winchesters, and Kakyoin looks a little miffed at not being able to introduce himself but doesn't say anything. 

Sam elbows Dean in the side as Doctor Kujo leads Kakyoin over to the table, sitting him down. "Lot of gay people here, huh?" San whispers in his ear. Dean's ears go pink and try as he might, he can't stop the image of Cas in his head. He elbows Sam back harder.

"Shut the fuck up."

They both glance over at Doctor Kujo and his husband, who are whispering to each other in Japanese. You can now see that Kakyoin's legs are covered with mechanical braces, hooked to his waist and presumably up his spine and stretching below the tall boots he wore. Dean supposed that this was who Doctor Kujo had been talking about, his friend in Egypt who had gotten his spine blown out. The thought makes him shiver slightly, Kakyoin shouldn't even be alive. I mean, he looked sickly, but not close to death. Kind of.

Josuke and Okuyasu are back on the counter, and they both rather look like they don't know what they're doing there, and Sam is inclined to think the same because how many people did they need to retrieve one arrow?

Kakyoin shakes the boys out of their thoughts by looking at the Winchesters with sharp lavender eyes, clapping his hands together loudly with a slightly wicked smile. 

"Alright boys, time for a training montage. Then, we're going to catch some stand users."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking hate Iggy. that's all. I look upon vanilla ice with so much envy.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments make my day, and i think I'll be posting the stand designs for the winchesters among some other art pieces soon, so my instagram is [here.](https://www.instagram.com/tegan_is_done/) thank you for your support! I will be planning on updating every two weeks or so. hopefully. I'm getting ready for college so don't get your hopes up. thanks anyway!


End file.
